


Alternative medicine

by Aloe_kun



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anesthesia, BLU Medic is sweet and RED Medic is an ass, Blood, Broken Bones, Flashbacks, Guns, Lollipops, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medicine, Most of these charas only get a small mention lmao, Oops, RED Soldier needs anger management, Smoking, The flashback takes up most of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloe_kun/pseuds/Aloe_kun
Summary: RED Sniper finds himself in a difficult situation, in which he is injured but can't go to his own Medic. Because he is royally pissed off. And would probably cut off his injured arm and god knows what else.So he has to take an alternative.





	Alternative medicine

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this a few days ago, but I somehow deleted all of it and had to rewrite the whole thing lmao. 
> 
> Fun times.

The RED Sniper froze. His eyes locked on the door to his sniper's nest, hand hovering at his sidearm, his fingers just curling around the handle. Tense, rigid. Ready to shoot at a moments notice, at even a glimpse of movement.  
  
He _swore_ he'd heard someone coming up the stairs.  
  
He held his breath, listening closely. He could hear the footsteps, the occasional creaking of old wood underfoot, gradually getting closer. From how close they had seemed when they stopped, it was certain that whoever it might be was just out of his sight, by the door. He readied his gun, totally ready for that damned BLU Spook to round the corner and pounce on him, knife in hand.  
  
But instead, a voice called out softly, in a distinctively German accent.  
  
"Do not shoot, herr Sniper. I am unarmed."  
  
"Jesus Doc, ya scared me..."  
  
He relaxed slightly, the tight grip on the handle of his gun loosening minutely. But he didn't rule out the possibility of it being a Spy just yet. Their own RED Medic had a reputation for not caring a great deal about his teammates, and the fact that he'd bothered coming up to see him so late at night was overwhelmingly odd. He kept his eyes on the doorframe as the Medic stepped into view.  
  
The _BLU_ Medic.  
  
He immediately pulled his sidearm from its holster, aiming it right between the eyes of the BLU, who raised his gloved hands in a surrendering gesture.  
  
"I'm not looking for a fight, Sniper. I just came to see how your arm has healed, ja?"  
  
He lowered his weapon slightly. In the tension of the moment he had forgotten how the other had helped him a few weeks ago, when he couldn't go to his own Medic.  
  
                         - × - × -

The RED Medic had been in an absolutely _shit_ mood that past few days, likely owing to the total loss the team had suffered just a couple of days prior. He'd gone and royally fucked up his arm after a fight with the RED Soldier over something dumb that he couldn't even remember. The fight had gotten out of hand fast and had ended in a trip to spawn for the American (courtesy of his better aim) and the aforementioned injury to the sharpshooter, and he didn't want to risk getting near the Medic; he'd more likely amputate it than even try to do anything about it with the mood he was in. Since he didn't really feel like a trip through spawn to fix it (he'd rather avoid dying wherever possible), he decided he'd try for the Medic on the other team. Had the BLU team still had their previous Medic however, he might have just taken that trip to spawn no matter how badly he wanted to avoid it. The previous BLU Medic had been even more bloodthirsty than their own, which was one hell of a feat, even killing his own teammates if it suited him. He would have been suited to pretty much any other class, in his opinion. Finally, after complaint after complaint from the rest of the BLU team, the guys at MannCo had finally gotten off their lazy asses and sacked the guy. He knew how little MannCo cared about this sort of thing, so it had gotten real bad before they even did anything. He'd heard horror stories about some of the things he'd left behind in the lab that were found when the new Medic was cleaning.  
  
Both teams had been anxious as to what the new guy would be like, though for different reasons. BLU was hoping they'd get someone who'd actually do their job and heal them, RED for someone who wouldn't bloodily massacre them on the battlefield without a second thought. As good a fighter the old guy had been, he was useless at healing, sometimes even just tossing his Medigun to the side and going to town with the Bonesaw, tearing into the RED team until someone finally shot him down, that job most often falling on his shoulders. He shuddered at the thought of some of the things he'd seen him do through the scope. He was no stranger to gore and brutality of course, but that guy was ridiculous.  
  
In the end, both teams could breath a sigh of relief. The new Medic was younger, better trained, and surprisingly concerned for his teammates health. Although, that was only what he'd heard over a smoke break with their resident Spook, who had gone off to do some snooping of his own between matches. From how he talked, it seemed like he'd taken a liking to the Medic, which was surprising as the Spy generally found the BLU team to be absolutely insufferable, and couldn't stand a good number of the RED team either. A solitary guy, for sure.  
  
The Spy had been surprisingly helpful, advising him on taking a back door into the Medic's lab. He didn't ask how he knew about it, but he guessed that a guy with his profession would just have his ways. He had also advised, surprisingly, that he went unarmed. He'd kinda half followed that advice- he left his machete, rifle and sidearm all behind (it felt weird being without them...) but had tucked a knife into his boot. Wouldn't do much good against the BLU Heavy or Pyro, or most of them to be honest, but maybe he could take a leaf out of the backstabber's book if he got into any trouble.  
  
So, cradling his likely broken (he was no doctor, but he was pretty damned sure that was bone just sticking through the skin) arm, he set off in the orange lit evening, hoping most of the Mercs would be winding down for the evening, playing cards or drinking or something.  
  
As it turned out, the BLU Sniper seemed to share his habit of spending most of his time in the sniper's nest. The warning shot that hit the ground at his feet kicked up a small dust cloud and made him flinch. He raised his functioning arm in the air and stopped walking. The last thing he wanted with only a bootknife to defend himself was for the Sniper to sound the alarm. Moments later, he heard a shout from above.  
  
"Stay where y'are, mate!"  
  
He waited, stationary, watching until he saw the other sharpshooter jog over to him, stopping a couple metres away from him.  
  
"Right, what're you here for?" He asked, pointing a finger at him somewhat accusingly.  
  
"M'just lookin' for someone." The RED replied vaguely.  
  
"That's a right awful excuse mate." The BLU frowned. "There's no way I can let ya any nearer the base with that." He stepped a little closer and leaned forward, talking in a stage whisper. "C'mon, one Aussie t'another, what're ya here for?"  
  
"...Our Medic's in a shite mood." He admitted finally after a long, awkward pause, nodding towards his arm. Secrets were the Spook's job, not his. "I was gonna try me luck with yours."  
  
He stood there for a little while when the other laughed at him, and would have crossed his arms if it wouldn't have hurt. He winced as the other gave him a strong slap on the back, though it was intended to be friendly.  
  
"Yeah, your Medic's a real arsehole." He chuckled. "I guess I can let ya by."  
  
"Thanks mate, appreciate it." The RED nodded as he replied, beginning to walk off in the direction he'd headed.  
  
"Just don't get caught, Soldier'll nevah let it go." The BLU called as he made back to his post. "An' don't go hurtin' our sweetheart of a Medic, y'hear?"  
  
"Yeah, I hear ya."  
  
He wasn't sure if he'd heard right. Had his counterpart called the Medic a _sweetheart?_ That was a new one. All the Medic's he'd known previously were either stony cold and professional (not so bad but very likely to hate everyone), or bloodthirsty maniacs (good in a fight, but otherwise bloody scary). Or some unholy cross between the two. Sweetheart wasn't exactly a fitting word for what he was used to. In any case the other Sniper had already gone to station himself back up in his tower, and he couldn't ask him. He'd have to see it to believe it.

The door wasn't far from where he was. He had hurried a little, admittedly, but only because he thought he heard an _extremely_ drunk Demoman coming his way. It turned out not to be the case, but he was still antsy about getting caught. But he'd made it pretty much undetected aside from his run in with the other sharpshooter. Well, no turning back now. He'd find out for himself what this new Medic was like.  
  
He took a deep breath in, stood in front of the door, and knocked twice. Loudly.  
  
The door was swung open and he was greeted with a broad smile, far kinder and warmer than the RED Medic's smug, evil grin.  
  
"Willkommen!" He chimed. "Vhat can I do for you at zhis..." As he looked up at the Sniper and realised that he was not from the same team, his smile dropped, hands clasping as his chest as he took a step back from the door. "Hour..."  
  
He took a couple of steps backwards, eyeing the sharpshooter warily. Sniper didn't blame him of course, he'd never exactly looked friendly; he stood pretty tall, frowned most of the time and, in the words of the RED Scout, looked like "a fuckin' weirdo". A little harsh but probably true. Not so bad in his profession, but not so great in social situations like this. He didn't want to scare the guy, which would probably be easier to do right now since he was still new, not quite used to the way of things out here, not yet a seasoned mercenary like everyone else. But the last thing he wanted to do was scare him, needing his help and all.  
  
"Hey Doc, look... Uh..." He paused. Part of him didn't think he'd make it this far without getting caught. He hadn't really planned. "I'm not lookin' for trouble, it's just..."  
  
God, he was bad with words. And people. But the Medic seemed to have relaxed a little at the fact he hadn't immediately attacked him, hands at his sides as he looked up at him questioningly from behind his lenses. Wait, he was looking up? He must be shorter than the last guy, who was just a little taller than him. He was at least a good few inches taller than this guy.  
  
"I'm here t'... Gah, dammit." He needed to get better with people. He was nervous, being on BLU territory.  
  
Luckily, it seemed like the Medic spied his arm. Taking a few steps forward and frowning slightly, his gloved fingers came up to tentatively touch the soft tissue around the break.  
  
"It vould seem zhat you are in need of assistance, ja?" He said. Sniper just nodded. "Vell, I can't help you in zhe doorway. Come in."  
  
The Medic smiled and turned his back to him as he walked further into the room. Had he been a Spy rather than a Sniper, it would have been a prime opportunity to strike. He followed him into the room, nudging the door closed. The place was surprisingly clean, compared to the RED Medic. This guy was obviously more careful; probably the type who carried hand sanitizer with him everywhere. He looked back over to the BLU right as he patted what looked reminiscent of a dentist's chair, but not quite.  
  
"Take a seat, and remove your shirt if you vouldn't mind." He requested.  
  
He complied easily, carefully shrugging off his shirt so he didn't jostle his arm. The Medic took his shirt, folded it, and placed it aside, then took a seat in the stool next to him.  
  
"Now, let me have a look..." He carefully inspected his arm, prodding gently and apologising softly whenever he made him flinch. "Ah yes, zhis is most definitely a compound fracture. I vill need to operate." He looked back at the Sniper's face. "Is zhat alright?"  
  
The Sniper hesitated. The guy would pretty much be able to do whatever to him in an operation, which wasn't exactly appealing, but...  
  
"Yeah, s'fine." He agreed finally.  
  
"Alright zhen." The Medic hopped off the stool and set about gathering some things from around the room. He took a tray of sharp looking surgical tools over and placed them on the small table next to him, a roll of bandages, wheeled over a few gas canisters and lastly added a few syringes to the tray. "The way the Medigun works only allows me to heal my teammates, my apologies. I vould use it on you if I could." He began fiddling precisely with the valves on the canisters. "That does not prevent me from using other medicines to accelerate your healing, though."  
  
The Medic chuckled softly at that little loophole, setting up just a couple more things. There hadn't been any deceit in his voice as he explained what he'd be doing. Sniper felt that he could trust him, despite being on the opposite team.  
  
He looked over to see the Medic holding a mask attached to the canisters. He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Anesthesia, huh?" He commented.  
  
"Ja." The doctor smiled. "Trust me, you vould rather not be awake for this."  
  
The use of anesthesia was something of a surprise. He'd never seen the RED Medic bother with it at all, possibly owing to the fact he could just use the Medigun since he'd  _never_ heal a member of the other team. He was too spiteful for that. But his thoughts were cut off when the mask was pressed over his nose and mouth and secured there.  
  
"Now, breathe deeply and count back from ten." He said, then laughed slightly again. "I doubt you vill make it to one though, you'll be asleep by zhen."  
  
He hesitated, but did as he was told, breathing deeply and slowly as he counted back in his head.  
  
Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven..... Six....... Aw piss, what came after that again....?...  
  
He woke up surprisingly clear headed. He must've been knocked out for a while and slept it off. From what little light came in from the high up slit windows, he figured it had gotten dark already.  
  
He looked down at his now bandaged arm, which still ached slightly, but there wasn't any pain elsewhere that would lead him to believe that the BLU had done any meddling. That was a relief. He looked over to the Medic, who seemed to be scribbling something down in a blue spotted notebook, which was snapped shut and laid aside when he noticed he was awake.   
  
"Ah, guten morgen." He joked. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Definitely better." He took the Doctor's hand when it was offered, and sat up with his help, stretching his fixed arm in front of himself and flexing his hand open and close a couple of times. "Thanks Doc."  
  
"Ah, it is only my job..." He smiled. "I'm glad I could help."  
  
"I'm gonna be honest." The Sniper swung his legs over the side of the seat. "I wasn't really expecting ya t'help. Y'know, being on opposite teams n'all."  
  
"Vell," The Medic held a finger up in front of him, leaning down a little to be slightly closer to the sharpshooter's current level. "Mien father always told me to be nice, until it's time not to be nice. It applies just as much here as anyvhere else."  
  
"S'that so?" The Sniper chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "If ya say so, Doc. But seriously, I appreciate this."  
  
"It's really not a problem..." The BLU looked away slightly and he  _swore_ he saw him blushing slightly at the praise.   
  
The Medic crossed the room to pick up Sniper's shirt from where he'd left it, passing it to him with a smile.  
  
"Vell, try not to do anything too strenuous with it for a few days at least." He advised while the RED pulled on his shirt and began doing up the buttons. "If it hurts, any basic painkiller will probably do. Don't hesitate to come back to me if you need to."  
  
"I'll keep it in mind, Doc." He replied with a nod.  
  
The short moment of quiet that followed was quickly broken by an urgent, loud knock on the door that made both of them jump, followed by a shouted phrase in a Boston accent.   
  
"Doooc! I landed funny on my ankle, and now it really huuurts!"  
  
"Ah, you should probably go now...!" The Medic flustered slightly as he went to open the back door. "Scout is a little trigger happy these days, especially during zhe lull between matches. He gets bored zo easily... he's bound to kick up a fuss if he sees you here."  
  
"A'ight." The Sniper nodded, and was about to leave through the open door, when the BLU caught hold of his wrist.  
  
"Oh, wait just a moment, herr Sniper. I almost forgot..! "  
  
He said it a little hurriedly as he leant over a nearby countertop, picking up an item and pressing it into the sharpshooter's palm.  
  
"A lollipop for good behaviour!" He said with a smile and short laugh.  
  
The Australian looked at the bright blue candy in his hand for a second, before shoving it into his pocket with a grin as he took off into the still _just_ about light enough to see night.  
"See ya, Doc!"  
  
"Auf wiedersehen!"  
  
                         - × - × -

The Sniper sat back, rigid form relaxing as the BLU sat kneeling in front of him with a smile. He hadn't been expecting him to come out and check up on him, much less risk coming into RED territory to do so. Too nice for his own good, he'd say. He doubted someone like him would last too long working for MannCo, but at the same time he hoped he was wrong.  
  
"S'doing just fine, Doc." He said finally. He couldn't quite meet his eyes.  
  
"Hm..." The Medic hummed thoughtfully, chin resting on his hand for a moment, the light from the lamp in the corner glinting off his glasses. "Fine is quite a broad term."  
  
He shifted slightly, settling to sit a bit more comfortably on the wood flooring while Sniper stuffed his sidearm back into it's holster at his hip.  
  
"It is quite a cold night, ja?" The BLU said, smiling. He reached into his coat and pulled out a blue striped thermos flask, placing it on the floor between them. "Drink a little and tell me more about it."

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly love the idea of RED and BLU Medics being total opposites. I really like writing BLU Medic as a sweetheart (he's trying his best dammit) and definitely plan on writing some more with him. 
> 
> (The whole "Be nice until it's time not to be nice" thing is actually something my own dad tells me a lot. I thought it would be nice to include it <3)


End file.
